


In the Garden

by DownOnThePharm



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DownOnThePharm/pseuds/DownOnThePharm
Summary: Rimmer reminisces about his childhood and his relationship with the one person in his early life who cared for him.





	In the Garden

Whenever Rimmer had a free afternoon, he’d slip off to the Botanical Gardens, to the hidden, out-of-the-way corner he was slowly rehabilitating. He had always found gardening pleasurable, and enjoyed the peace and solitude of his little haven. As a child, he had often retreated to the household gardens to escape from his family. There, concealed among the flowers and vegetables, he found sanctuary from his shrewish mother and abusive father, and relief from the torments of his brothers. Rarely did anyone care enough to bother pursuing him there.

The gardener, Dennis, had always treated him kindly, allowing the lonely boy to help him with his work. He never considered the child to be a nuisance, instead welcoming his company. Under his patient tutelage, little Arnie had learned the arts of horticulture, from cultivating the soil and nurturing fragile seedlings to tending mature plants so that they would flourish. As he puttered around his little hideaway, Rimmer would reflect on the man he now knew to be his biological father. 

Dennis had always looked after him as though he were a rare and precious specimen. He would skillfully treat his innumerable cuts and bruises with salves and tinctures he’d made himself from his beloved plants. He would also quietly listen as Arnie poured out his heart, studying him with soft hazel eyes. _Eyes so like my own,_ thought Rimmer.

His brothers had mocked Dennis, nicknaming him Dungo for the reek of fertilizer that often clung to him, and calling him a simpleton for his uncultured ways and slow manner of speaking. Little Arnie had never joined in, though. He had respected the gentle, quiet man who had cared for him when no one else had. Arnie never paid much attention to the smell of manure, or soiled clothing, or dirt-encrusted hands. Instead, he cherished the gardener’s warm smiles of approval when proudly shown the first ripe tomato of the season, or a particularly perfect rose. He was grateful for Dennis’ gentle, soothing touch as he tended the wounds inflicted by yet another beating. He appreciated how they would weed a vegetable bed or prune fruit trees in companionable silence. His friendship with Dennis had been a rare bright spot in the darkness of his childhood.

 _Did he know? Did he treat me so kindly because he knew I was his? Dennis, I wish I could speak with you just once more. I have so much I want to say to you. So many questions for you..._

Out of the corner of his eye, Rimmer noted a bright spot in one of his flower beds, a bed planted with wildflower seeds he had recently discovered on a derelict ship. A single, delicate daisy had bloomed. Tears welling in his eyes, he knelt down beside the bed, and caressed the soft petals of the small flower with a gentle fingertip. _Such a common, humble little flower, yet still so beautiful,_ he thought. _Its life is such a gift._

__

__

_Thank you for teaching me, Dennis. Thank you for everything._

_I love you, Father._


End file.
